


All I Want For Christmas

by katmarajade



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Christmas, F/F, Fluff and Angst, Friendship, Holidays, Loneliness, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-18
Updated: 2014-12-18
Packaged: 2018-03-02 02:25:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,096
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2796284
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katmarajade/pseuds/katmarajade
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Millicent is spending Christmas alone, and she can't help but sulk as she remembers last year's celebration with Daphne.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All I Want For Christmas

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sdk](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sdk/gifts).



> Written for sdkshelly as part of my annual holiday gift fic series. My prompt was flangsty Millicent femmeslash and I threw in one of my own personal favorite tropes—lonely characters spending Christmas alone.

Millicent moved the last few bites of her Marks & Spencer pre-made mincemeat pie around in the tin before pushing the whole thing to the side. She had thought that by getting herself some traditional Christmas foods that she could make the day feel a bit more festive, a bit less lonely, a bit more bearable. Unfortunately, even the best meat pie in all of Britain (which this one was decidedly _not_ ) couldn't make it feel like Christmas.

Dropping the plate in the sink, Millicent summoned a goblet and poured herself a hearty glass of red wine before retreating to the sofa in her sitting room. Celestina Warbeck and her annoying carols warbled from the wireless, and Millicent snuggled morosely underneath her favourite crocheted blanket and watched through her front window as fat snowflakes danced in the hazy glow of the streetlights.

Last Christmas had been her first without her parents, both of whom had died in the war. It had been her first year without her father drinking too much mulled wine and bellowing out mismatched lyrics to all of his favourite Christmas carols before passing out in front of the tree. It had been the first year that her mother hadn't made her famous plum pudding, the old family tradition that had been handed down through the generations, the pudding that looked like Hippogriff dung but tasted delicious, the secret recipe that Millicent hadn't quite old enough to be trusted with and now would never have.

Last year hadn't hurt quite as much, because she'd had Daphne. The Greengrasses had been one of the few Slytherin families to escape the war intact (perhaps one of the few families full stop.) Millicent and Daphne had grown close during their seventh year, both shying away from the divisive politics and trying to pretend that everything would be all right. Even after they'd left school, they'd spent much of their time together. Millicent still wasn't sure why Daphne—gorgeous, brilliant, posh Daphne—had ever wanted to be friends with her, the burly, grouchy girl who never fit in amongst her pretty peers.

Christmas with the Greengrasses had felt like something out of a storybook. The house had been decorated perfectly and Christmas dinner looked like a Marks & Spencer advert. Daphne's little sister, Astoria, kept them entertained with dramatic tales of her would-be beaus, no fewer than six of whom had sent her romantic letters and shiny presents. Mr Greengrass wore designer robes, but topped them off with a ridiculous Santa hat. Mrs Greengrass never sat down, constantly refilling beverages and offering sweets. The best part, of course, had been Daphne, who shared secret smiles with Millicent over mugs of mulled wine, the scent of pine boughs, roast beef, cinnamon, and Daphne's rose perfume all wafting through Millicent's senses, inscribing themselves into her memory, showing her what a perfect moment could be.

However, between Daphne's Potions apprenticeship and her sister's recent surprise engagement to Draco Malfoy, which was the talk of the the Wizarding world these days, Daphne had not had time to spare to hang out with old school friends. To be fair, she'd never said as much, but Millicent had pulled away, knowing that grumpy school mates who were abysmal in Potions and clueless about bridal gowns and wedding traditions were surely not a priority in her friend's busy life. As a result, Millicent was now even surlier than ever, desperately missing her best friend. She missed Daphne's laughs—the girly giggle when she was tipsy, the loud and gleeful sound she made when Millicent said something particularly witty or snide, the smirking, breathy chuckle when they were making fun of Astoria's many melodramas. She missed the heady smell of rose perfume and peach shampoo, and she missed the way Daphne never complained when Millicent's cat shed all over her designer robes.

Millicent's brooding was interrupted by a knock at the door. Muttering under her breath about hexing whatever idiot charity fundraiser or group of carol singers had forced her to leave her cosy couch, she rose. Assuming her fiercest scowl, Millicent yanked the door open with what was probably excessive force. Her expression floundered when instead of a busybody holiday stranger, Millicent found herself face to face with Daphne. Ears burning, she muttered,

"I thought you were carol singers again—horrid lot won't leave me alone."

"Ah, there's that holiday spirit I know and love!" said Daphne with a teasing smirk playing at her pink-painted lips. "Now, let's see if we can't get you into a properly Christmas-y mood, shall we?"

Pushing her way into the flat, Millicent watched in wonder as the very person she most wished to see pulled off her winter coat, revealing a red lacy dress, scooped up Millicent's purring tabby, and collapsed dramatically onto Millicent's sofa. Eyeing the empty wine glass, Daphne turned her head to look at Millicent, who was still standing in stunned silence in the doorway.

"You're letting all the warm air out, Millie. Shut the door. Then be a dear and pour us a couple glasses of whatever you were having. I'm parched."

Millicent managed to close the door and absently retrieved another glass and the rest of the bottle.

"What are … what are you doing here, Daphne?" she finally asked.

"What do you mean, what am I doing here? It's Christmas, you idiot."

"But your family …" Millicent trailed off, still confused.

"I already did the whole family thing," Daphne said, waving her hand dismissively. "I gorged myself on roast beef and pudding, listened to Astoria obsess for the nine millionth time about the particular shade of red that she wants for her wedding flowers, and opened a few presents. But throughout all that Christmas gaiety, all I could think was that something was missing."

Daphne paused for a moment, took a sip of Bordeaux, and then exclaimed with exasperation. "You, you idiot! _You_ were missing."

"You missed me?" Millicent couldn't seem to wrap her head around the revelation.

"Of course I did. Now get over here and snuggle up. We've got most of a bottle to go, and you will not even believe the stories I have for you. Honestly, my sister gets herself into the most ridiculous situations. So last week she got this idea in her head that …"

Millicent carefully settled herself on the sofa, and Daphne tossed half of the blanket over Millicent's lap as she continued to regale her with Astoria's latest debacle. A slow, hopeful smile began to form, as Millicent thought, perhaps this will be a merry Christmas after all.


End file.
